


Left me searching for a reason (why’d you leave?)

by shield_maiden



Series: Harringrove [7]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Insomnia, M/M, boys being stupid and not talking about their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 15:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shield_maiden/pseuds/shield_maiden
Summary: He gets it, he does. Why Billy wants nothing to do with him anymore. It’s dangerous, in a small town like Hawkins, where rumours spread like wild fire and can be the most dangerous weapons in the right —or wrong— hands. But in some distant place, beyond his constant exhaustion, it still hurts. It’s becoming an alarming pattern in his life, people just throwing him aside when they’ve had enough or found something or someone better.





	Left me searching for a reason (why’d you leave?)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from ‘Right Now’ by HAIM.

The distance between them now was probably a good thing, Steve thought to himself. It hadn’t been mutually agreed on, but after that afternoon in the Camaro, it seemed like they had both made the independent decision to take a big step back from whatever this was. And Steve was slightly relieved.

It meant he didn’t have to confront the fact that he had broken down crying moments after he'd had Billy’s dick in his mouth, just because the other teen had touched him like he cared. It had been a moment of weakness, Steve told himself, brought on by stress and not sleeping and he’d finally reached breaking point. He probably would have broken down no matter what Billy had done, and it definitely wasn’t because he ached for someone, anyone, to look at him like they cared, let alone touch him in such a way. (He knows this is a lie, but whatever helps him sleep at night. Or not sleep, as the case was.)

The downside was that he hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time in the past few days without waking up screaming or twisted in sweat soaked sheets, and on average had managed a paltry three hours a night. He knew he looked like shit, and from the way the rest of the school was staring at him, they knew it too.

He stopped going to basketball practice, his body was so completely exhausted that the idea of setting foot into the gym made him feel like dying, as though it would just shut down the moment he crossed the threshold. Plus he didn’t really fancy having to spend any time around Billy if he could help it, especially not a sweaty, shirtless Billy.

Speaking of Billy, the guy seemed to be everywhere.

Steve would feel someone watching him in the hall between classes and look up, and sure enough, there was Billy, usually frowning at him, like his existence on this plane was personally offensive or something. And then their gazes would lock, and Billy would look away, go back to whatever the fuck he was doing before. On some level he understood, but it still stung, when the other teen wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Sometimes, at night, when Steve was laying in bed, the only living presence in his huge empty house, his mind and body beyond exhausted but still unable to bring himself to submit to sleep, he would imagine scenarios in his mind and play them over and over again.

Often they were scenarios where he just simply didn’t exist anymore. Maybe he got sucked into the upside down and became Demogorgon food, or just disappeared. But in these scenarios, no one misses him, not even Dustin, not Nancy, certainly not his parents, definitely not Billy.

Sometimes they were scenarios of Nancy, that she would break up with Jonathan and come back to him and everything would be okay again. They would go back to what they were and he wouldn’t feel so lost. But he usually felt bad about thinking that, for wishing his friend’s relationship would end just so that he could be selfish. He wondered if it made him a terrible person on top of already being a mediocre failure.

Other times they centred around Billy, these, compared to the other options, were almost nice. Usually it was based off of memories of their trysts; the way Billy looked at him, all heated blue eyes, like he was something to be devoured alive. Or the slow burn of Billy stretching him open on his fingers before fucking him so hard he could barely think.

When he did sleep, the nightmares always came, and by the middle of the second week he’d taken to sitting up with a pot of coffee until the sun crept over the horizon and he couldn’t fight it anymore. Then he fell face first into his bed to sleep for an hour until his alarm rang, usually just as his dreams began to morph into nightmares.

There was a party that weekend, and for the past few months, parties hadn’t exactly been his scene. But somehow he found himself there, with the majority of the seniors and more than a few sophomores, crammed into someones living room while their parents were out of town. This had been him once, opening his parents home and liquor cabinet to what felt like most of the teens of Hawkins, music blaring from his dad’s sound system as he revelled in being King Steve. How things changed. But maybe getting drunk would help alleviate the weirder than usual feeling that had been following him around lately. And maybe, just maybe, he would be able to sleep tonight.

He half expected Nancy and Jonathan to be here, although in hindsight, he’s not sure why they would be. Jonathan had always hated parties. But Billy is here, and part of Steve foolishly hopes that maybe if they both get drunk enough they’ll hook up again. He’s on his third beer now, and Billy is making out with Stacy, from english class. Steve knows it’s creepy, and he shouldn’t be watching, but he can’t help himself. Just like he can’t help himself from wishing Billy was kissing him instead.

He watches the way Billy’s back muscles shift under his shirt as he pushes Stacy up against the wall, and from where Steve sits, it looks like he has his tongue down her throat. Steve blinks, and just like that, Billy is shoving away from Stacy and turning on his heel, making a beeline for the kitchen. Steve can’t help watching him go, and realises drunkenly, exactly why all the girls never shut up about Billy’s ass in those jeans.

And then the blonde is re-emerging from the crowd as quickly as he disappeared, a bottle of tequila in one hand. Something in Steve’s chest twinges as the other boy flips him off on his way back to Stacy, eager to resume their make out session while passing the bottle back and forth. It turns Steve’s stomach like spoilt milk, and he makes quick work of the rest of his beer before slipping out into the night.

The house party isn’t far from his own home, and even in his semi-drunk state it only takes him a few minutes longer than usual to walk there. He’d hoped to be drunk enough to just pass out in his bed, but he wasn’t, and honestly picking the lock on the liquor cabinet seems like too much effort. So he winds up laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling as his buzz slowly fades away to nothing.

He gets it, he does. Why Billy wants nothing to do with him anymore. It’s dangerous, in a small town like Hawkins, where rumours spread like wild fire and can be the most dangerous weapons in the right —or wrong— hands. But in some distant place, beyond his constant exhaustion, it still hurts. It’s becoming an alarming pattern in his life, people just throwing him aside when they’ve had enough or found something or someone better. Like Nancy with Jonathan, or Billy with Stacy.

He rolled onto his side, staring out the window into the dark of the night, and tried to think of anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> I love each and every comment and always try my best to respond! Come hang out with me on tumblr @crimson—petrichor


End file.
